


A table

by bbg17on



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbg17on/pseuds/bbg17on
Summary: This came up from Jadore Venice by Miranda_Glass.





	A table

**Author's Note:**

> The first paragraph is from Oliver's point of view, the second paragraph is from Elio's and so on.

"I wasn't lying about the table." Oliver's words above a whisper behind Elio, not touching him. Oliver knows Elio remembers them. "I know." The words coming out choked, as if he can barely say them. Oliver's head tilting, nose, lips on the side of Elio's neck. Not touching it but with each breath touching Elio's skin his scent going through Olivers body. His hands creeping between Elio's body and his hands, already positioned on the table. Elio kissed him for the first time last night after he performed with the orchestra, leading to more once getting back to the apartment. Its been buzzing through Oliver's head since he got up. Its not about what they did in bed, its about making that final connection. Finally. Oliver knows Elio had his reservations about it. Issues with the past, he's no longer a teenager but some of the scars were harder to work through. Oliver knew he was taking a risk in having Elio give him another chance. Walking through it with Elio has been worth it. Not only to prove to Elio and himself that he'd changed but to know he feels more for Elio than he did before. More than he thought was possible. Elio's hand gripping Oliver's left. Stability, he hasn't kissed him, barely touched him. His skin just barely grazing Elio's. Head going back as Oliver rounds the corner to his throat. He doesn't know which he prefers, Elio's scent moving through every vein or the burn in his body when those lips touch his. Elio's whole body leaning into him for stability. Elio's hand in his hair. The warmth of his over heated skin. Letting his nose trail his cheek as he pulls away, across those ruffled curls. Cheeks flushed as he faces Oliver. Bringing to mind Monet's Berm. Looked at him freely there, taking in this human statue. How nature had been able to carve him out.

Oliver's hand on his cheek. Remembering the nights in Rome, ravaging each other until there was nothing left. How would now be any less? Elio not being the same as he was then. Feeling as if he is somehow more delicate. Whether it be the scars on his arms and legs or Oliver's hand handling him like he delicate porcelain. The one thing that tried to break him before has now made him stronger. Those lips on his. He doesn't want to feel nothing. Dull or numb out the ache with pills or bleeding no matter how much time passed. Therapy helped to a point, getting involved with music again helped too. Arms around Oliver's, hands on his neck, fingers in his hair. Both Oliver's hands on Elio's face. The ache there in full force. Oliver's tongue gently maneuvering over Elio's lips and into his mouth. Testing the waters. Wondering since the night before how far the trust goes, Elio gladly invites it. Is it possible the ache from before was a shadow compared to now? Was it Oliver's patience? His willingness to let Elio decide what he feels for Oliver? Oliver taking the risk of Elio rejecting him? Not wanting to take that chance again? Oliver wasn't someone Elio got over, even in past relationships, Oliver was always there in the foreground. Looking for features similar to his. Hands, body build, face. None of them striking him like Oliver's had. To deny he's been in love with Oliver this whole time, even with all the pain would be denying himself. The way he loves Oliver doesn't make sense but he's never loved anyone the way he does Oliver.

This man is getting more and more daring. Surprising. A lot of this is uncharted territory for us. His ex, Simone, if it were all about the money, it would mean Elio was just a fuck. These lips, that mind, this body, it couldn't be father from the truth. If Simone really knew him he would know how much of an insult it is. Oliver, after announcing his engagement to Elio and how low things got in his marriage, he could never insult Elio like that. Elio had his reasons for being with Simone. Whether if was love, companionship or the guy was meant to keep Elio from thinking about Oliver for a minute, they were Elio's reasons. Its clear Simone has issues with respect or he wouldn't have shown up at the apartment after he phoned Elio and after Elio told him he didn't want to see him. Oliver doesn't consider it his business. Its a hurtful part of the past, it includes Oliver one of which he already felt the pain from. Simone and Elio didn't end on good terms. It doesn't sound like it was a healthy relationship to begin with. Elio's arms wrapped around his neck. It was Elio's business. Whether he talked about it or not was up to him. He has waited for this. For Elio to let him in, mind, body and soul. He has waited or him and yet after all of this he would wait all over again. He's the only one Oliver wants. The sculpture from Monet's Been has changed, weather, time has had its impact. But it is still there. Lips, his curls, the way he speaks, how he speaks, his voice itself. The edges of him have been rounded out, some a little sharper than others. Its what makes him who he is. "You are exquisite, Elio."

Oliver's words have stopped his whole body cold. And he feels so warm. His limbs, face, heart. He didn't want to hear the word perfect or even see it when Oliver looks at him. It would feel like a trap. Falling into heartbreak. Its what it had been. Seeing perfect in Oliver's eyes meant he could do no wrong. He had done plenty since that summer. For Oliver to see perfect after all Elio has done would some how hurt more. Its not what he sees with this word. Its not perfect. It's beauty, its a sea beyond it. He never expected this word or any other except love from Oliver. The warm he feels, its how much more he loves Oliver for saying this one word. His body accepting it before his mind. Oliver being more vulnerable in this moment than he's been since him and Elio crossed paths again. Oliver's radiant soul, hand on Elio's neck, thumb caressing his throat. Reaching out, wanting to show he's not running away from it. He also knows Elio could run from it. Run from a declaration of love, be offended by the word or the gesture itself. "Elio" It has been a long time since he has said his own name. His love for Oliver doesn't make sense, they don't know him but Oliver does. Oliver has been getting to know him all over again and he knows Elio better than anyone else. Saying this, going back to their roots. A smile on Oliver's face as he sees it in Elio's eyes. Accepting the declaration. Lifting himself up to the table, sitting a top of it. His love makes sense to Oliver. The Greek statue that is standing between his legs. Oliver sees him. He did that summer. His eyes stripping Elio bare, seeing straight through, seeing the walls Elio has put up, stripping it all away. His hands pulling apart Oliver's robe. His hands sliding the robe back on Oliver's arms. Hearing the light fabric hit the floor. Elio has never been this raw, open, vulnerable with anyone else. "Oliver" The word coming out a whisper, sending a slight shiver through Elio like it had their first night together. Accepting Elio, accepting his fate. Whatever it may be. They will face it together.


End file.
